Children of Past Earth
by royslady51
Summary: Harry is whipped away by the deflection of an enemy's spell's vortex into Earth's extremely distant past. He undertook to find other people and discovered that the humans of this time hadn't very long ago discovered fire...and True Magic, well, they were still working on that, too. His only comfort is that he had slain Voldemort before being lost


**TITLE: Exile in Time**

**FANDOM(s): Harry Potter and Earth's Children**

**Author: Royslady51 **

**EMAIL: ****royslady51 **

**ARCHIVE: The WWOMB, Inkstained Fingers. All others, please ask me first.**

**RATING: UNKNOWN**

**PAIRINGS: AYLA/JONDALAR**

**WARNINGS: Not much, actually, other than AU/AR**

**SUMMARY: Harry is whipped away by the deflection of an enemy's spell's vortex into Earth's extremely distant past. He undertook to find other people and discovered that the humans of this time hadn't very long ago discovered fire...and True Magic, well, they were still working on that, too. His only comfort is that he had slain Voldemort before being sent here on a one-way trip through Portkey Space without a portkey. He knows that while his friends will be trying to find him, locating him in Time will be nearly impossible.**

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**An Exile in Time **

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_Harry wasn't unhappy_, most of the time, though it _was_ a lonely existence. He had most of what he needed near to hand and could make what he _didn't _have from local materials, so it wasn't as if he lacked anything but other people. He had not had another person speak to him in years and the only time he spoke was to command one of his ass herd or say something to Hedwig.

His island home was over thirty miles long, nearly eighteen miles wide and was in one of the most isolated places he could have imagined. It was somewhere on the Equator, _that_ much he knew...but _where_ it was, was _unknowable_. _When_ though...he had discovered to his dismay that his _Pre_-Hogwart's Muggle Education was providing _those_ answers. His new era was somewhere in pre-History, at least.

Most likely in the early part of the Hunter Gatherer stage, at that..._probably shortly after humans had discovered how to control fire and lost their fur._

The only sounds he ever heard now were those of Nature; the jungle noises, of creatures and sometimes he thought he could hear the plants grow, other than that, there was only his own breathing or footsteps in the leaf litter or over those parts of the interior that were hard sand, harder clay or rock and the white noise of the surf as combers crashed into the shore. In some seasons, the rookeries of migrating birds raised a racket that had he but known it could be heard far out to sea, as the competition for the best nesting sites and enough room to rear their babies grew vicious.

He took some of them for roasting birds, saving the best of the feathers for fletching and figured out the hard way how to make arrows that flew far and true...and how to fashion working longbows. He knew that seeking out people was dangerous for the future, but he also knew that he _needed_ other humans to survive at all in this primitive world. He had applied Future ideas by capturing some of the wild asses that ran all over his new home, taming them and training them to carry packs. His best bet, he decided, was to be a traveling trader, until he found a People _somewhere_, that would accept him. He figured that would probably take a while, since if he'd been considered a freak even next to other wizards, what _else_ could he be considered by primitives?

There were good parts about being here, in this 'Now', though. For one thing, the sound of the surf when combined with the view of the stars through crystal clear, _unpolluted_ air at night from the beach was incredible, the sunrises on the eastern shore and sunsets on the western one were masterworks of color, and things that washed up on his beaches after storms were often at the very least fascinating and there were lots of creatures in the jungles of his island that served him in various ways, as food or as companions of a sort. Food literally hung from nearly every tree...it had everything a boy could want except human friends. And it wasn't as if that lack was something to which he was unused. Fortunately, Hedwig had tangled her talons in his hair and so had come with him...so he still had _her_, at least.

He also had a growing pile of scavenged 'treasure' found on his beaches after storms and a collection of pearls found in oysters he'd opened after having harvested them for food from the tidal pools along with things like crabs and clams. He idled away many long, lonely days drilling holes through them with sharp shell fragments and stringing them on long ropes twisted from plant fibers. Some of the very best he wanted for himself so he made these into necklaces or had sewn them into fanciful patterns on thick leather belts, but most he just tied one end of to an overhead branch and let the breeze swing them about. Some places, he had so many they made a curtain that lightly clicked and clattered in the wind. Other places or sometimes the same places but a few feet away were abalone shells with their mother of pearl insides shining in the sun or strings of his favorite shells. His muggle education had told him that when traders got far enough inland, these things counted as wealth. He was also harvesting sea salt, putting Featherlight charms on them and shrinking them down until he could carry huge water-repelling packs in his pockets.

Eventually, when he had as much 'treasure' as he could handle the number pack animals needed to carry it, Harry left to begin his search for humans. He still wasn't so big a boy that a large ass was too small for him to ride. His occasional forays to the mainland had yielded deer hides and meat to dry, experiments had yielded, eventually, soft skins to make his clothing from, and shells or pearls, once holed, were sewn to his clothing in creative patterns and colors. Others were sewn loosely to hides he'd trimmed into squares, in rows of type and kind, then rolled up and tied securely before rolling it up in another, larger hide, the other way round.

Working out saddle-trees fit for packsaddles had been so much fun, he mused, sarcastically to himself as he loaded the last ass. The actual saddle hadn't been nearly as much of a headache, though he had used the Western one the Americans had developed instead of the English version...it had more places to hang things from and one could strap saddlebags to the backrest, he thought that was the part called a cantle. It also had a _large_ pommel which was referred to as a _saddle-horn_, which was as well while he taught himself to ride as it had given him something to hold onto when the stallion was trying to buck him off. Now, of course, the lead lines for the other animals were fixed to it, running under his thighs to the animals. And he cheated, a bit, using side-along apparition to get them all to the Mainland.

He didn't know why, not that it mattered anyway, but he turned North and settled into the first steps of what would be long, seemingly un-ending, years of travel.

If he found humans, it would be by chance, but he wasn't defenseless, by any means. He had both _his_ wand _and_ the Elder wand, his battle-learned defensive and offensive spells and a huge host of 'home' charms Molly had taught him. Hedwig alternately flew, hunted or rode on one of the packs. Killing Curses weren't illegal yet, so he used them to kill meat and fur-bearing animals painlessly and instantly. Many of the dark curses he found useful for processing his prey, such as those which drained blood or skinned at a word.

Drying and curing spells turned the hides into clean, soft skins and simple 'color' charms put in hues that were bright and which didn't fade. He _could_, of course, have used the knowledge Professor Snape had given him to dye things the hard way...and if he found humans it would probably be _wiser_ to do it the hard way...so as he traveled, he harvested such plants as would give leather or cloth long lasting colors. He also harvested cotton and flax seeds, when he finally found a home, to grow a crop to harvest for thread. But for now, he only took cotton bolls when they were poofed out and ready. He had to pick them anyway to get to the little black seeds, so why not _use_ the cotton fiber? After about two full years of northward travel, barring a week or two spent in various places to rest the animals and himself, he reached cooler lands. It was autumn and there was a bit of a nip in the air. He knew it was going to be cold in the winters here so he did something he had not needed to do before. He sought out shelter, looking for a stone cave big enough for himself and the increased size of his ass herd.

It took a while to find one, even with magic, but he finally found what he wanted. He didn't know that it was barely outside the territorial boundaries understood by the native people who lived there, however friendly they were to visitors and never-minding the fact they had no idea it was even there. Nor would it matter to them. Harry Potter, for all his skills and abilities, was only twelve-years-old, had not yet begun puberty and was a child in a land and a time when every human child was welcome because humans were so few, where the loss of every life, even prey animals killed for food and hides, was cause for at least regret, because Life was both precarious and _precious_.

_He'd lived there for over five years when he found them._

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He found them while hunting, which on later reflection didn't really surprise him. He'd been seeing fresh signs of humans for a few days and thought it was only a matter of time before he found them. They had to hunt too, he supposed, though it was sheer luck that had his arrows bringing down the same deer that one of their men had aimed a spear at. He didn't know why he _kept_ killing deer except that making sure there was enough food to go around was wise considering their poor aims and the size of their group. Oh, there were a _few _good shots, grownups mostly...but most of the group were his age or younger and they had, for the most part, really _bad_ aims.

When the rest of the red deer had thundered away, the adult hunters began to realize that most of the kills were not theirs...and it wasn't long after that they saw that amongst them a strange, rather _too_ young, boy with a very strange weapon field dressing a doe. He was good at it and had several tied up asses with pole-drags and four pulling some _thing_ they'd never seen before. There was an odd contraption tied to a thick branch overhead and he used it and the strangest looking ass they'd ever seen to get the deer from the ground to the _other_ weird thing.

Harry ignored them as he used a block and tackle's pulley and the strength of one of the few genuine mules he'd managed to breed to dangle his deer, one at at time, long enough to get the wagon under them. He had killed a full dozen but was only taking three does. He didn't need more meat than that right now and _they_ did.

A little while later he realized some were staring at him and looking at the strangeness of his clothing.

He wore full moccasins, for one thing, with thick, reenforced soles and toes that prevented stone bruises and most banged toes. They were a darkish gray from dampness for he had gone hunting in the dawn when there was a ground mist and that was only now disappearing. He was getting a bit warm and took off his jacket, revealing the detailed embroidery of his sleeveless jerkin. Now that the whole thing could be seen with his leggings, the embroidery of both lined up perfectly. He had little else to do in the long winter months, after all. Boredom was a huge motivator to find _something_ to do. Harry had gotten his eyesight fixed before the accident, fortunately, but his hair hadn't been cut in a very long time and flowed down past his knees when unbraided, though just now he had it in a single, long braid down his back to keep it out of the way.

One of the older men tried to talk to him but he didn't know the tongue and indicated he didn't understand. He got a nod as he finished loading up his share of the meat and tying the leading reins of the rest of the asses to the wagon bed, and hitch up the larger mules to pull it, but as he stepped up to sit down and drive his wagon home, he realized that several unburdened people were walking with the wagon. He realized that they wanted to greet his people...what would they do when they found him there in his large cave without anyone else?

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A runner took off as soon as they realized this _highly_ capable child was alone...the cave was well stocked, well provisioned...and if his skill at hunting was any indication, it was apparent that he'd done it all, _all by himself._ The boy looked worried and not at all reassured by the calming sounds they tried to use to quieten him.

A few tried to pack him up to move him and he unpacked as soon as he saw what they were doing, yelling in an angry tone. They ceased, realizing the boy thought they were trying to rob him. It was a big cave, huge, in fact. It was bigger than the Ninth and just outside of the Zelandonii territory, though not yet in any other people's. They _could_ expand, here. And the Ninth's Zelandonii was coming.

It still took Ayla about two weeks to learn to speak English, surprising her mate because Jondalar knew she usually learned a new language in three or four days, but she said that this boy's language was like nothing she'd ever heard before...and very difficult. She was relying mostly on her ability to memorize fast. It was huge, complex and very, very descriptive.

He didn't say much about his past, it didn't matter and he doubted she'd understand. He let her know that because of a horrible accident involving a man with evil magics, he was alone and had no way to return to where he'd come form...but he'd made a new home in this cave and wasn't leaving it. He invited them to send some people to join him, if they wanted, but HE wasn't moving. He was working on a big shuttle loom...just finishing it, in fact, when another of those priestesses showed up...that lady was bigger than Professor Sprout.

He ignored her for a bit, since threading a loom this size was a tricky business and he didn't need tangled yarn at this stage. Once he was ready to begin weaving winter blankets he looked up and she was gone. He hadn't noticed.

"Harry is working on something that looked like it needed all his attention." The First told them. "It looked something like one of Marthona's looms but it's huge."

Ayla nodded, "He has several already but has been building that new one for days. He carved all the pieces he needed himself. His way of processing wool is interesting...he has a great deal of some very thick thread...dyed black and since I've seen him make very delicate thread from the same wool, it had to be on purpose. It has something to do with the new loom, but I don't know what."

"He was using thick yarn thread to thread that loom. It _had_ been dyed black."

"He refuses to join one of our caves but we're welcome to live with him if we wish. He's put a lot of hard work into making this cave comfortable and isn't about to walk away from it." Ayla told her mentor. "I can understand that and if it were me, I'd probably feel the same way."

"Me too." Came the voice of the Fourteenth in a rare full agreement. "The southern wall has many small caves in it, one of them is clearly his personal hearth. There are is a strange construction in each of those small caves where the hearth is laid that lets smoke out but not back in. There are thick hides, fur out and in both, fastened firmly to a frame of wooden poles, placed over the opening to each cave and fastened so that they will swing enough to open and close fully. The floors are covered in straw with bison pelts over the straw. Bison pelts are pegged into holes in the stone with wooden pegs, to fully cover the walls and the ceilings...since all the sparks and smoke go up the strange construction instead. Those caves are considerably warmer than any I've seen. Once a fire is laid and the area has time to heat, if the frame is closed one could sit there naked in late winter and remain comfortable."

The Ninth nodded. "He calls those new things a 'chimney' and has shown people how to build them. Apparently, his people use them to keep small areas warmer. The soot and smoke goes out and the heat stays in. The double hides on the frame over the opening is something he named a 'door'. That's supposed to keep most of the warmer air inside and the colder air of the main cave outside of the small cave. He calls the small caves 'home caves' meant for one family. Some of them have other caves in the back, his does, I know. He uses them for storage. But they could be used as sleeping chambers too."

"So," The First nodded, "He won't leave and he has that right. But if we let the Caves know that he's offering room for over crowded caves, we'll have to adopt him...so we can name the Cave."

"No need, he's already named it." Ninth told her. "This is Mulberry Ridge Cave because in the right season this whole area, the ridge we're on, the slopes, the valley and all, he says, is covered in mulberry trees. He told me there are so many that he uses many for making purple dye. He thinks we could fill this cave to capacity as far as people go and there would still not be enough people to eat the mulberries without having lots of extras for dye...that's how many trees there are. He calls the lower slope and the valley Mulberry Forest." She sighed. "He's been living here for five years. He can do as he likes since it's not our territory yet. So, if we accept his offer, his names for things he already has will stand."

"This area is very far from the main territory, perhaps we should call any of our people who come to live here Zelandonii of the Mulberry Forest and this will be the First Cave of the Mulberry Forest Zelandonii." Fourteenth said, thoughtfully.

Harry came out just in time to hear that part. "I can compromise with that." He told them. He looked at Fourteenth. "I'd prefer someone like you, I think. You, I can work with...you remind me of someone I miss rather a lot...and all that snap and snark is strangely comforting to me." He told her bluntly, going past into another storage cave and bringing out a basket. It had a smaller one on top of it and both were covered. He set it down. "Now, since I know you already have a Cave to take care of, I'll take someone LIKE you." He stressed, opening the top basket. "The Zelandonia who is given this Cave as their charge and assignment will also be given this. It's part of a set I worked on it a long time as a gift to whoever would eventually be the One Who Served for this Cave. He drew an elaborate shell necklace from the top basket. It was priceless and beautiful. "It's part thanks for accepting the responsibility and coming so far, and partly a welcome home present." He laid it carefully back into it's basket and tied the cover back on, then returned it to the cave it was stored in. He was carrying a third basket when he came out.

"I have as many Home Caves of a suitable size for one or two people as there are necklaces in this basket. They're single shell necklaces and they're all the same. He set that one next to the First. I have enough Home Caves of a suitable size for families with several children as there are necklaces in this basket...the necklace always goes to the highest ranking person in each household. When you run out of both kinds of necklace...the ones for people with children are made from a different kind of shell...then all the available caves are taken. Whoever you select to Serve here will get their welcoming presents, including the necklace, when they get here. Fair enough? Those caves are fully equipped with everything except food. Food is stored elsewhere...I've got plenty though. So," He nodded to Fourteenth, "I now rename this, my Cave, The First Cave of the Mulberry Forest Zelandonii.

First, Ninth and Fourteenth all nodded. It was very fair.

"I will adjust as well as I can to your ways, but have patience. I've been a long time without adults to answer to and I'm used to doing as I wish." He glanced at the First. "It'll be a few years yet, I think, before I'll need the item you call a manhood belt. I'm just not interested yet...part of it is that I've got too much work to do and part is that you don't miss what you've never had. I look older because I've been through a lot." He headed back into the cave with the big loom in it and after a few minutes they heard the rhythmic clacking of a loom in use.

"Oh my...I knew he was very young...but not _that_ young." Ayla said quietly. "But he was telling the truth. There was no sign of dissimulation or avoidance in his body's language."

First and Fourteenth locked eyes but finally Fourteenth shook her head. "I'm too old, now. But I think there are one or two of my older acolytes he'd like."

First sighed. "Yes, I think I know the ones, but I believe I'd rather your First Acolyte. If you tell him he likes your 'snap' he can manage...but he's a better healer than the other two. This far from any other Caves, they'll need the better skilled one."

For once, they were in full accord, this boy's wealth would eventually make it's way through all their people.

"My niece, Grathalana is much like me, she has never had a full term child and might adopt him. She is loving and supportive to those she cares for, but not overly demonstrative." Fourteenth offered, tentatively. "I'd have to ask her, of course. But it's possible."

As it turned out, that niece had agreed to mate a man from a Southern Cave and had that summer moved to his home so that fell through before it was even started, but there were several hundred singles and families arriving with the identifier necklaces and as they arrived, everyone got a shell bracelet, lighter in both weight and color for females than males but mostly the same pattern...it was a way to tell at a glance which cave someone belonged to. Harry escorted each household to a Homecave, lit the fire in the hearth and let their eyes go wide as they saw the sparks held back by the stone barrier and the soot and ash go up the chimney...while the heat stayed in the cave heating it quickly. Ayla came with the man who had once been Jeromalan, of the Fourteenth Cave, but who was now The One Who Serves for the First Cave of the Mulberry Zelandonii and introduced him to Harry. Harry brought out the Necklace and put it on the new First for the first cave of the new Territory. With it came a shell headdress, dangling wristlets, finger and toe rings and earrings. He showed the man a reflector that was so clear there was no blurring and it was like looking into a vertical pond on a sunny day.

Harry smiled as they looked into a mirror for the first time.

"The Necklace is welcome. The rest...visual rank, I think."

Mulberry First nodded, "Yes, rather. I agree."

"Would you like to see the Homecave I set aside for you...and the WorkCave I also set aside for you to have patients in if you need to?"

"I would, yes."

"Follow me, sir."

"Sir?"

"A mode of address used by my people from anyone to an adult male they respect, casual class, though, unless tone of voice indicates otherwise." Harry told him, "NOT a title one should use toward a manchild unless that child's rank is a couple hundred levels higher."

"Then, yes...it is a friendly title of respect, and isn't formal. What is the formal address?"

"Sire, usually. Here we are, have a look around while I light your hearth-fire."

The new First for the new people lit several lamps and took in the large area, explored the rear portions that could be used for storage and noted how fast it got hot in here with the door closed.

"Note speed at which it warms up?"

"Yes, bank the fire for now, please."

"Yes sir." Harry obeyed and then picked up a lamp to show the man the large subcave across the corridor.

"I could put several shelters in here and still have lots of room. Yes, this will serve nicely for the intended purpose." Ayla had left at some point but the new Shaman wanted to talk to the boy. "You are one who prefers men, as I am, are you not?"

"Yeah, but I wasn't going to tell that to a bunch of women." Harry laughed.

"You do not need a manhood belt for that, but do you need lessons?"

"Possibly, but not yet and not unless I have an emotional tie. That's just how I'm made. You can bring a lover or mate with you if you need that kind of relief. I'm not as helpless as you people seem to think." Harry walked away without another word, though the Cave's Server looked after him thoughtfully. He agreed. No boy his age who could survive as long as he had alone was helpless. Most of the singles who had come had same sex lovers or wanted them. Harry had noticed but had still handed off the Necklace of Acceptance to them. Some caves were uncomfortable with this many of them in one place. But the boy was another like them, so they had found a permanent home.

It was a beautiful cave, large, well stocked, well provisioned...and Harry shared his bounty out generously. You got meat and hides from the deep caves that stayed frozen, replacing used items as well as hunting for the coming winter. One day, after several days at the big loom, people woke to find Harry working at the waist high stone platform he called a table. He was cutting up a huge piece of woven cloth made of black wool. He hemmed the edges to prevent it from unraveling and passed the rectangular pieces, he called them woolen blankets, out to people. Some pieces he cut narrow at the top and measuring them around a woman's waist, using a long length of the fabric to go through a slit in the waistband. He showed them how to use the two long pieces to secure it around their waists, showed them the little pockets on the item and told them it was called a skirt. Others he cut differently and sewed two pieces together on three sides and stuffed with down feathers. As they got fuller, he sewed more until only a tiny hole remained. He continued to stuff them until no more down would fit, then sewed this odd item closed. He put them in the sleeping places of the few elderly that had also come at bedtime and covered them.

_Next day..._

"I've never slept on something that soft and warm. He showed you how to make them, so if you want to find out what I mean, make your own. Great Mother, I feel ten years younger!"

Featherbeds began appearing all over the Cave.

And then Harry began teaching hunters to use the long bow. Stunned at the hunting advantage it gave them, they learned with eagerness. This far north, the English lad used traditional wood for the bow, ash, when he could get it. He also planted the Cotton seeds he'd gathered on his Journey...that's what they called his wandering...in rows with the flax seeds beside the cotton, spaced to allow each mature plant enough room to fully expand to it's best potential. All of the gatherers saw the potential in his neat rows and the Ninth put in seeds to grow her medicinal plants. He showed her how to take cuttings from adult plants and which ones she could take roots from, divide them and plant that way to have strong, healthy plants much sooner than from seed.

Harry was useful, valued, productive, accepted, cared for, loved...and he loved in return with all the heart in him. He kept his former dwelling though, insisting his family meaning his new mother and the children born to his new mother move into it with him.

It was huge, after all...and doing so would raise their rank even more, to something very close to what his had been before the adoption. That raised his up again...since his mother still _owned_ the other dwelling, but she and her father lived with him. It meant he had a grandfather, now.

He had asked a woman with many children who had lost her mate to adopt him. She was high of status, though not so high as his, so she hesitated until he put puppy-dog eyes to work on her and then she capitulated without a word. There was, she knew from her birth sons, no accounting for it once a lad got a notion into his head.

When at the next Summer Meeting, the First began explaining the 'new' knowledge, she slowly stopped talking as she realized that Harry was grinning at her.

"You already know."

"Yes, Ma'am." She'd gotten used to his honorifics that he used more often than the Zelandonii ones. 'Ma'am' she had learned, was a polite, Female specific, general acknowledgment of greater age, a wider range of experienced knowledge and rank. It did not indicate one's function, title or duties, though. It was, he had said, the safest term of general respect to use on any fully mature female one doesn't know. Among people that were known to the person using it, it was used from younger to elder as a casually respectful address for a woman.

NOT a girl, though. Girls, he told her, he called 'Cootias' because they all had something he called 'cooties'. After some questions, she started smiling. Harry was not only too young to be interested in sex, yet...he was still in the time of development when boys _thought_ they were allergic to girls, she assumed.

She knew his background now, though. This was less age and more because the boy had never before been allowed to _be_ a boy...so he'd reverted his behavior to a child that was younger than his actual age. '_Cooties_', she thought, chuckling. It was a very useful, indicative term instead of a parasite or disease...and it would disappear on it's own..._in time_.

"Now, here are all the words for Father that _I_ know of." He grinned. "Dada, pappa, padre, daddy, poppie, pops, pa, papa, abba and da." And then she got a lecture on how reproduction occurred, what the organs did, how sperm interacted with 'eggs'...that had her staring at him in shock.

"So, it's well known in my day, Ma'am," He finished, his face bright red, "That a woman's fertile time is the three days _right before a period begins_. There is no egg present in a woman's body at any other time of the month. It is also known that a man's seed can survive in a woman for up to two full days after he deposits it there. So, if you avoid sex for five full days _at that time_..." He looked sickened every time he mentioned the word 'sex'. He used the word in place of the word Pleasures.

Harry's aversion to physical contact with females did not abate, however. When he got his manhood belt and his mother's da explained...

"Do I _have_ to?"

Mother stared. "What do you mean, '_have_ to'?"

"I don't like girls, _that_ way." Harry told him.

She chuckled and smiled at him. "Prefer men, do you? Non-functional with females, I suppose? It happens, son. The Zelandonii understand this...come on, Harry, let's go talk to the First or the Ninth. There are special arrangements that are made for boys that carry the Soul of Woman within them."

The First explained Arrangement for Woman Souled Males, "Many of the men who are Those Who Serve are carrying a spirit that have both genders. You Serve, but differently than most Doniers would. We doniers have had many meetings concerning this, particularly when you started identifying several people who are Gifted in the same way that you are and started training them. The Ninth, in particular, from what you have told us, is very strong in what you call High Magic. We are adding the new kind of Servers to those of us that are traditional. Harry, you are One Who Serves."

"I am One Who Serves but as a Wizard, not as a Donier." He agreed. "Sooner or later we'll find some who are both, so you must test and guide the wizards and witches along with your regular novices. Nevermind that, for now." He dismissed it for the moment, "Do I have to wear the manhood belt? Because if I do, I'm going on a Journey until after the Meeting is over, so I don't have to dodge the Fringes who're guiding the rest of the boys." He told her bluntly, shuddering slightly.

She chuckled lightly. "Yes, but it's a different belt, not the usual one and we will make the public announcement that only Those Who Serve are to guide you in this.

"Oh, _good_." He told her, expressing intense relief and ignoring her chuckles. "Oh, I almost forgot to mention, I gave a full third my trade goods to Willomar to be traded on behave of the Ninth Cave as a whole. He's to use it for food trades or supplies or whatever is needed. I don't need all of it now that I have a family."

"That's very generous and will raise Ninth Cave status considerably." The First nodded. "Have you put aside enough for a Consort?"

"Yes, Ninth is holding it for me. I'm making the last of fifty bows, needing only strings, which will be part of what is given the family of whatever man I take. I don't want someone my age. I _wish_ Professor Snape was here." He sighed.

"Who is he?"

"One of the few teachers that survived the Evil One. He knows me...sometimes better than I liked, but that was good, you know?"

"Yes. It is good for you to have someone who knows you that well."

"_Frustrating_, sometimes..."

She laughed, nodding agreement.

The Fourteenth actually greeted Harry quite warmly, the wealth of new knowledge he had brought had greatly benefited her Cave as well as her People. The 'Garden' as he called the neat, convenient rows of useful plants made foraging for harder to find plants unneeded since she grew them near to hand, plus she had most of her healing plants close by, too. And now she had a surprise for him and the Ninth Cave.

"There's some people staying with us this winter that are looking for you, Harry, the Potter." She smiled. "Their names are Albus, Ronald, Hermione, Neville and Severus. Although, I think Severus was less than pleased at the discovery that chasing after you was a one way trip, as he put it."

"Ron? M'ione? Nev? SNAPE?" His voice grew louder with every shout.

"I am not _deaf_, Mr. Potter. I'm right here." Snape's dry voice sounded from behind him. Whirling, Harry stunned Snape by lunging at him, wrapping both arms around the man's waist and hugging him as hard as he could. Snape, as so many times before, understood. He always understood. He had relaxed a great deal since arriving here at the beginning of an Ice Age winter. Since Spring had begun, he'd discovered the existence of a great many ingredients for useful potions that were long extinct in the age they had all come from.

He had been enjoying a great deal of brewing without the need to teach anyone but the Fourteenth and her acolytes. And _they_ were only learning potions for Healing.

Harry could not seem to release the man...and Severus understood that, too. He'd gotten as much information as the Zelandonia knew about the several years of Harry's time here...before they had finally found a spell that could send them back, only to discover it would take more power than they could bring to bear. They were, like Harry, stuck here.

"There's someone else who would like to receive a hug, Harry. So let go Snape and c'mere." Ron snorted. "Hermione's busy, this year. Fourteenth said something about some rite called 'First Rites', since she..." He paused at being thumped on the ear by Snape.

"It's okay, sir. I know what that is." He noted Ron's Manhood Belt. "You're gonna have fun this summer, Ron...you and Neville. Has he gotten his Manhood Belt too?"

"Yeah. Some pretty, _pretty_ older girl dragged him off. She had these things called fringes all over her dress. Fancy, that thing. Leather, red mostly, really bright red...why are you blushing?"

"Um, Ron...see that really _pretty_ girl over there, with the earth-tone red fringes on _her_ dress?"

"Yes."

"Go tell her, what you just told me and ask her what's so special about the fringes. She'll explain it." Harry ignored the snickers from Snape. "You're going to anyway and there's some people I need to introduce Severus to."

"Severus?"

"No professors here and I think he really needs to have a long talk with the Ninth and the First." He pushed at Ron to get him going. I am so glad to have _real_ teachers here so I don't have to _be_ one..."

"YOU? Good Merlin, what have you been teaching these poor people?"

Harry snorted. "Reading and writing, for one thing. These are some of the ancient cave painters of Southern France...or what will one day BE Southern France. And guess what? The River? Will one day be called the English Channel. Of course, there's going to be a lot of tectonic plate drift before then...and likely a lot of earthquakes, but hey...these things take time."

Severus stared at the back of Potter's head as the boy led him up to the Ninth Cave. "Have you been adopted yet?"

"Yep. And I can't wait to see your expression when you meet Molanlieta. I've got a couple of Crafts, a good bit of wealth, and I'm learning from the Trade Master, too. The Zelandonia call me Woman Souled because girls are _gross_."

Snape smiled a bit, the lad was in his mid teens, if he were going to start being interested in the opposite gender, he would have by now. But...no. To Harry, girls didn't HAVE cooties...they WERE cooties.

"I also, Harry. Now, what is 'First Rites' and what is the significance of those...'manhood' belts?"

"I'll let The First explain all that. Just ask her and also that I'm asking you to be my Consort."

Severus was a bit _nonplussed_. First Rites was the ritual deflowerment of girls as soon as possible after First Blood. Any boy wearing a Manhood Belt was to be introduced to sex by as many grown women as he could find time for and taught to pleasure them as well as himself. No clumsy beddings in _this_ ancient society! There was no such thing as a bastard, all infants were welcome...the infant mortality rate was very, very high. Most children didn't live to see their 5th birthday due to accidents and diseases.

The Zelandoni of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii was a powerful, but untrained Witch, as well as a powerful Shamaness, though those gifts, at least, had been well trained. He immediately took her in hand to start training her on First Year lessons. He was pretty sure he'd have to turn her lessons over to Dumbledore...who had been intercepted by children who had found out that Albus would play with them..._endlessly_.

And Harry was claiming him...HIM!...as his mate. Or as they called it here, his _Consort_.

There was a lot of negotiating to do before the Fourteenth and the Ninth finalized the arrangements for the Consortship between himself and Harry, the Potter. He'd chuckled for days after the introduction to the Kiln. And had handled it as deftly as Harry did as well as taking over the manufacture of metals, copper as well as brass and bronze. He looked into a very odd looking vat of something molten.

"What's that one?"

"Used to be sand. I'm hoping for glass when it's done...but since the Headmaster is here too and he's an alchemist, I thought I'd turn that one over to him altogether...so we can have real glasses and mirrors."

Severus nodded. "Wise. Alchemy _isn't_ potions...and it _is_. It's the creation of artifacts though, rather than substances." He turned and gestured to the old man to join them, motioning the others away, especially the children. "Harry has a project he was in the middle of that he'd rather you take over now that he knows you're _here_..."

Albus eyed the molten sand and smiled a bit. "Glass, eh? _Yes_, that's within my disciplines as an alchemist." He wafted his wand over Harry's mixture and added a bit more potash, not much...just a pinch. He looked at Harry. "Guesswork?"

"Yessir." He flushed. "It was my first try."

"Not bad, not bad at all." He looked over at Severus, "Not more than the weight of two flies wings off, for a lad with no prior experience and not so much as a _tour_ in a glass-works. The rest of the formula is superior. And the lye is _very_ high grade, so it doesn't take very much." Turning back to Harry, not many use red lead instead of the white, but it makes a superior glass."

"I couldn't _find_ white lead in this area," The boy admitted sheepishly. "I did try, though."

"Ah, lucky happenstance, then."

He looked at the flat, smoothly polished granite surface waiting for it. There were several stone 'forms' and more than the work 'many' could describe of unfired, thick clay. Ceremonial glasses and mirrors, the old wizard thought.

"I'll finish up with this, it's all wand work at this point anyway."

"What of your lessons with the Ninth?"

"Miss Granger is teaching her first year charms at the moment. The Ninth memorizes as fast as she learns." He looked thoughtful. "Do we know how far into the past we are?"

"This will one day be Southern France, these are the Cave Painters...but I've introduced them to reading and writing about 15 thousand years earlier than they figured it out on their own and used what we consider modern English to do so." Harry told him bluntly. "Just repeat that to Hermione and add the "I started the three Rs three years ago so just DEAL with it." from me to her and then wait 30 minutes or so before you starts asking what she's thinking. Watching the wheels grind in her head can be _fascinating_."

Snape snorted in amusement. He knew the look Harry meant and had seen it 'grinding away' at a problem in his classroom many times. He pulled at Harry's shoulder to follow him to join their cave's hunt for bison. They passed a modern stable, fully secured and made of local stone, the stone walled pasture adjoining it in an age when mammoth and cave lions still walked the Earth. The curiousness of it still caught at his mind sometimes, for all the Ninth's horses and Harry's asses needed the structure. Harry and he had shown the Ninth how to build a special pen that would allow the mares to be bred by wild stallions, yet give the mare no chance at escape at all. She had to be closely guarded while so defenseless, but it was worth it. They managed to snag several foals from mares with twins, taking the smaller foal and leaving the large one. Last week they'd caught a mare in labor because she was having problems. Snape got her down, cleaned his arm and got the foal turned correctly by physically reaching in and turning it between contractions. The healers watched closely and nodded at times when they understood what he was doing. The foal was born alive as was it's twin, born ten minutes later. For all she was a wild mare, the horse let the Ninth soothe her and help her babies. Harry used a trick of sprinkling finely ground sea salt over both rough-dried infants to encourage her to groom them. She was weak from stress and the birth so they got her into a loose-box without too much fuss as soon as the foals could walk a bit. Rolled oats sweeten with honey and salted just a bit completed her introduction to humans. Harry put a stone water pot into the manger full of fresh grass and they watched her eat, drink and settle into the belly deep straw of the stall.

"The foals will be raised tame and that will tame their dam, over time." Severus told the Ninth. "You began something _profound_ in this, _your_ age...for in _our_ age horses are still a part of human life, everywhere on the earth you go, some people have horses or other animals and they also have dogs."

"_Dogs?_ What are dogs?"

"They are descended from wolves, having evolved or having been bred with some odd trait that no wolf pack would have ever tolerated, size, color or something...that _humans_ favor for one reason or another. Some are so tiny they will fit in the palm of your hand, others are so huge they're nearly Racer's size. Most are in the middle range, somewhat smaller than Wolf. But the traits which have nothing to do with appearance remain, companionship, guardianship, loyalty and love remain the top traits of the domestic dog." Severus told her. "Harry went out yesterday and soaked a root that causes animals to sleep soundly while removing a single solid black puppy, a female, from the litter of the wolves he's been watching. He gave her to your daughter this morning as a mate for Wolf."

"That's wonderful! I _know_ how to raise puppies!" _She beamed a smile at Snape that made Harry glad Severus was gay. _

"Apparently, so does your wolf...that little pup ran him ragged, though." Harry mentioned. "Jonayla named her Shadow."

"That's a good name for a black wolf. Wolf's mother was a black one."

"Then that means that many of the puppies will probably also be black though perhaps not all of them. When your pack is large enough, they can be taught to hunt with the Ninth's hunters. The average lifespan of a wolf is about 16 years, the average lifespan of a horse is between 20 and 26 years but they can live up to 40 years. Horses and dogs are considered 'past the age of work' when the dogs are ten or eleven and the horses are 16 or 17, that's when old age sets in. You want to maintain a herd because of this. Between birth and death from old age, humans can see many generations of each. With the addition of our magics and my potions we can extend the human lifespan by a good measure. For example, Albus is 152 years old."

Severus dropped that bombshell on the Ninth's poor head without warning because the First was right behind her and well within earshot. "That is one of the places where shamanic magics and high magics can join for the benefit of many, _many_ people."

"It sounds like it. He's a spry as a man in his twenties!"

"Our kind of Server lives longer than the average human, he will have another hundred years in him and his many years have imparted much wisdom and _a great deal of tolerance_."

"So I saw, he loves the smallest of the children." The Ninth smiled at the First.

Severus just snorted. "He's got a great deal in common with them."

"The Fringed Ones tell me he is _well_ able in the furs. Three of them bedded him in the last three days of their fertility and all three are now pregnant. Albus tells me he can sense the magical cores of the infants already beginning to form. He encouraged it by having the donier of the mother of the unborn one tell infant's spirit that adult wizards were present in the population to teach the children when they were old enough to begin learning."

Severus nodded. "We would like to prevent the horrors of the future we came from and the way to do that is to educate the generations of the distant past. We're staying, for all that is holy, we will do what we can to improve the lives of those in our adopted age whilst also guarding the future. It is possible that Albus is his line's _own First Father_."

"Is it dangerous?"

"Not with this many generations between your generation and our's." Severus shook his head reassuringly.

"How many?"

"Hundreds of thousands," Harry told him. "Ask Hermione to do the math."

"Lazy boy," Severus murmured.

"She'd use arithmancy and I didn't take that course." Harry shot back. "Besides which, with two teachers here, I can go back to my own Year, right? After remedials, it's been years already."

Severus' lips twitched. "Brat." He answered affectionately, but nodded. "I'll check with Albus and see what classes you should be in to refamiliarize yourself with the process of learning...oh, wait..."

"Severus!" He protested, "I wasn't that bad at it!"

Snape just snorted. "You have some time to do your Shell Craft, I think. I'll do the kiln-work for now and Albus has the glassworks."

"Nah, I'm going hunting with my grandfather and his other son's grandsons. Ron and Neville are busy with the Fringes and Hermione's stuck in the First Rites area until that's over. We'll have time tonight, Sev."

"It's a nice cottage, large enough for several generations.

"It's at least as stable as the Burrow will be, too." Harry was proud of his ability to keep a straight face when he said that...though it was a close run thing.

And my mother in law is decent...if overly familiar to me."

"Yeah, I thought I was going nuts at first. So, she's really Mrs. Weasley?"

"Albus says she is indeed."

"Wow. Does Ron know yet?"

"No, but we have determined that the Ninth Cave is within the neighborhood where the Burrow will one day be and that the cave that was once called the First was where Hogsmeade will one day be. That cave collapsed generations ago during an earthquake."

"_Weird_..."

"Caves from the Seventh and lower in number are further into what will one day be France. From the Eight onward, they're in England...except for the Southern region which, if my calculations are correct, is Spain and Germany lies on the other side of the Glacier. The Lanzandonii are the forebears of the Irish, I think. Possibly the Scots, but it's too far from Hogsmeade, I _think_, for that. Though, mind you, I reported all this to the First and then told her to talk to Old Albus about it.

"Acquired a nickname, has he?"

"And I'm so proud to have nailed him with it." Severus chuckled as Harry gathered his bow, checking the string and making sure he had extras. He checked the arrows he intended to take, adding each to a quiver as he approved it. He took two quivers full, in case someone needed spares.

"How big of a bitchfest would Lucius have if he knew that we all have a decent chance for peace and happiness here, in this time?" Harry asked Severus on their way back to the First Cave of the Mulberry Forest Zelandonii from the Zelandonii Summer Meeting.

"Huge. Massive." He was well satisfied, really. He only had Ron and Harry to look after, since Albus and Neville were remaining with the Ninth Cave and Hermione had been adopted by a woman from the Third Cave. Ron had been adopted by the same woman that had adopted Harry...and she had been confirmed by Albus as being the First Spirit of the woman who would one day be reincarnated into Molly Weasley...and Ron fit into her family of many boys fine. He even looked like they did...blended seamlessly into the whole though there had been an odd moment when he'd met a lad so like himself they could be twins. Ronald and Tibar had been inseparable ever since.

"Good. The Dursleys wouldn't be all that pleased, either. Did you know goblins already own Gringotts? I've been depositing gold for both of us." He handed Snape a new Key and walked off toward the other hunters leading a pair of asses to haul meat back with, leaving the stunned man standing behind him.

Before their Cave departed for home, Severus took Albus a large pot of nutrient potion for a small girl that the Ninth was tending, one whose mother had lost her milk less than three months after her birth and who was therefore small for her age. He tricked the tiny infant's tongue into believing it to be delicious...it wasn't, but _she_ didn't know that. It was helping, she was catching up to her age-mates in size and health. He looked around him with more than a small sense of wonder. Children surrounded him, a few clinging to his teaching robes, tiny things that they were, laughing up at him, _happy_ to see him.

He noticed that instead of the swagger he expected from Ron what he saw was a greater sense of his place in this new world. And Neville was learning a craft...bead making...that was a quiet job he could do in peace and which had value. Snape felt something settle within himself and smiled.

_**~ Finis ~**_


End file.
